I used to read Nora Roberts all the time a few years ago.
When I started reading one this morning I got bored after about half a page. Sooo many adjectives - get to the freaking point!
Quite funny how your taste changes over the years.
Sunday, 31 January 2010
Friday, 29 January 2010
disappointed
I was suppose to be at school at 8am this morning. I realised that when I was waiting for my bus home at 12:40pm. I'm fucked.
to the grave if I must
Why do I always get the hormone-overload, but never the small-town-band-orchestra? I get all the signs that I should get a visit; stomachepain, craving for liqorice and chocolate and insane switches in my temper. But no visit. No release. Just happiness, annoyance, anger, sadness and tears and pain all mashed up inside. And no fucking release for it. I wonder if this would be easier if I was a man. Sure I'd have a tent in the morning, but maybe my temper would be more even.
Tuesday, 26 January 2010
Developed country problem #1: My bread gets ruined when I try to butter it due to the butter being too cold.
I dreamt that someone was shooting at me. I was just dialling 911 when I woke up. You know, sometimes I really think I'm paranoid.
I'm not sure what triggered that dream, but I woke up to a sun shining very brightly in my face and noticing the location of it (the sun, not my face) I was fairly sure it was after 4pm in the afternoon. Great, another day ruined. I might aswell go back to sleep. And I tried. It's just very hard to sleep when you get energy injected straight into your head like that. So I gave up, stumbled to my couch where I left my mobile phone yesterday and checked what time it was. 9:18am. That meant a) 6 hours of sleep and b) I didn't ruin the day. Hooray! I continued to stumble out in my kitchen and grab a new book and for the past two and a half hours I've been reading it. (I've also done my dishes, but that isn't really relevant here. Yes, I know - nothing is ever really relevant here.)
Män som hatar kvinnor is directly translated to Men who hate women and it's such a fitting title for it. The funny thing about the movie is that a lot of people in it are very well-known in Sweden and the guy who's the worst of the bunch is usually portrayed as a really nice, genuine guy. When I grew up we had a Christmas calendar on TV about a guy who loved lots of girls and his family. The asshole played this guy's father and everyone who's around my age recognises him as it. Quite funny.
It was on my list over books I'd tell people I thought about reading but never actually planned to. I think almost every Swedish person who reads had heard of it long before the movie hit. I certainly had but I'm a bit prejudice, you see. I don't read Swedish authors. I don't really know why - but maybe it has something to do with school when you were forced to read all the time. Of course, that wouldn't explain why I don't mind reading books written by foreign authors. Maybe I'm just a bit of an idiot - surely wouldn't be the first time. Of course, this book is a crime-novel - a genre I'm not particularly fond of. It's like Fast Food Nation all over again - I'm reading another novel that I never planned on picking up in the first place. I have a feeling this will be an exciting year.
I'm not sure what triggered that dream, but I woke up to a sun shining very brightly in my face and noticing the location of it (the sun, not my face) I was fairly sure it was after 4pm in the afternoon. Great, another day ruined. I might aswell go back to sleep. And I tried. It's just very hard to sleep when you get energy injected straight into your head like that. So I gave up, stumbled to my couch where I left my mobile phone yesterday and checked what time it was. 9:18am. That meant a) 6 hours of sleep and b) I didn't ruin the day. Hooray! I continued to stumble out in my kitchen and grab a new book and for the past two and a half hours I've been reading it. (I've also done my dishes, but that isn't really relevant here. Yes, I know - nothing is ever really relevant here.)
Män som hatar kvinnor is directly translated to Men who hate women and it's such a fitting title for it. The funny thing about the movie is that a lot of people in it are very well-known in Sweden and the guy who's the worst of the bunch is usually portrayed as a really nice, genuine guy. When I grew up we had a Christmas calendar on TV about a guy who loved lots of girls and his family. The asshole played this guy's father and everyone who's around my age recognises him as it. Quite funny.
It was on my list over books I'd tell people I thought about reading but never actually planned to. I think almost every Swedish person who reads had heard of it long before the movie hit. I certainly had but I'm a bit prejudice, you see. I don't read Swedish authors. I don't really know why - but maybe it has something to do with school when you were forced to read all the time. Of course, that wouldn't explain why I don't mind reading books written by foreign authors. Maybe I'm just a bit of an idiot - surely wouldn't be the first time. Of course, this book is a crime-novel - a genre I'm not particularly fond of. It's like Fast Food Nation all over again - I'm reading another novel that I never planned on picking up in the first place. I have a feeling this will be an exciting year.
Saturday, 23 January 2010
vultures
Yesterday I shotted a Dooley's. I don't like Dooley's. Or Bailey's. Or other "ley's". It's something with the warm chocolate and aftertaste of soo much alcohol that just doesn't work for me. Probably has something to do with the fact that I'm not the biggest fan of warm chocolate either - unless I'm outside and iceskating on a lake or something. Then it's perfectly normal and alright and expected.
I also had about half a glass of pear cider, two cokes and one sprite and I was on top of my game. It was bloody awesome. Me and my friends even went dancing. Last time we did that was last summer and before that... who knows? Everyone in there were probably in their late teens, which made us... oh, about ten years older. And we felt it. And we didn't care. I even checked a guy out - I did nothing though, it'd be like coming on to someone's little brother or something. There were loads of songs we'd never heard which made us go "huh?" and everyone else go "WOOOOO!". When Hanson's Mmmbop started playing everyone cheered. I laughed and my best friend felt horribly embarassed. We went dancing to it and I told her: "When this song became famous we were twelve. If everyone in here is 18, that means they were 7 when this song was famous." She answered: "Is that suppose to make me feel better?!". Of course I answered "Yes" and smiled. She started laughing and couldn't deny that it was quite funny. Of course, she was semi-drunk so it could've been that, haha.
I also had about half a glass of pear cider, two cokes and one sprite and I was on top of my game. It was bloody awesome. Me and my friends even went dancing. Last time we did that was last summer and before that... who knows? Everyone in there were probably in their late teens, which made us... oh, about ten years older. And we felt it. And we didn't care. I even checked a guy out - I did nothing though, it'd be like coming on to someone's little brother or something. There were loads of songs we'd never heard which made us go "huh?" and everyone else go "WOOOOO!". When Hanson's Mmmbop started playing everyone cheered. I laughed and my best friend felt horribly embarassed. We went dancing to it and I told her: "When this song became famous we were twelve. If everyone in here is 18, that means they were 7 when this song was famous." She answered: "Is that suppose to make me feel better?!". Of course I answered "Yes" and smiled. She started laughing and couldn't deny that it was quite funny. Of course, she was semi-drunk so it could've been that, haha.
Friday, 22 January 2010
Harmageddon
On my way home from the bus I started thinking about science and religion. Religion is like a book - it's got a beginning, a middle and an end.
Scientists usually shake their heads at religious people. How can they still believe in a god with all the proof there is? How can they believe in a Doomsday and judgement? Religious people on the other hand look at the proof and a lot of them probably understand, but they choose to believe anyway. God created Earth and Adam and Eve. I wonder if these two groups realise how alike they are. Scientists are sure that Earth was created by the Big Bang - religious people think a god made it. Scientists have calculations which say the world will end in about a hundred thousand years or so when our sun explode - religious people are sure it will happen a lot sooner. Some of them even have calculations of it.
I see myself as an atheist, but I'm not. I'm more of a spiritual moron with a slight touch of science. I believe in fate, I'm fairly sure that the world will end due to our sun exploding and I like to question everything just for the sake of questioning. Sometimes my friends look at me and then just shake their heads - they've had the fate-discussion with me too many times to have the energy to bring it up again. I don't support the Big Bang-theory - the whole "something out of nothing" doesn't really work for me, nor do I support the "God created Heaven and Earth"-stories. If I'm bored I go for the viking-myths - that we all live in a big tree with a dragon gnawing on its roots.
That's how humans work - when something is too hard to understand they make up easier explanations. Does that make them stupid? No, not really. I went to high school with one of the smartest people I've ever known - intellectually - but the line between brilliant and insane was very very thin. Some days we really had our doubts.
Don't get me wrong here - I, too, look strangely at the religious people. I, too, question scientific results. I, too, make up easier explanations when my mind can't comprehend stuff. I laugh at narrow-minded people who can only see it their own way and I mock them. It's not very nice, but usually they don't understand that they're being mocked with anyway.
So how do you think a priest and a scientist would react if I had them stand next to each other and asked them "Do you think science can be compared to a book with a beginning, a middle and an end?". I think they'd both say yes. The priest would probably have his answer ready after the word "book" and then scientist would think "no" at first, but then hear "beginning, middle and end" and see an experiment - thus changing the answer to "yes". If I'd then ask them "Do you think religion can be compared to a book with a beginning, a middle and an end?" I'm fairly sure they'd both say "yes" straight away. After all - most religions these days are based on books and written stories. And still these two groups of people look strangly at each other, not really wanting to understand the other side.
Scientists usually shake their heads at religious people. How can they still believe in a god with all the proof there is? How can they believe in a Doomsday and judgement? Religious people on the other hand look at the proof and a lot of them probably understand, but they choose to believe anyway. God created Earth and Adam and Eve. I wonder if these two groups realise how alike they are. Scientists are sure that Earth was created by the Big Bang - religious people think a god made it. Scientists have calculations which say the world will end in about a hundred thousand years or so when our sun explode - religious people are sure it will happen a lot sooner. Some of them even have calculations of it.
I see myself as an atheist, but I'm not. I'm more of a spiritual moron with a slight touch of science. I believe in fate, I'm fairly sure that the world will end due to our sun exploding and I like to question everything just for the sake of questioning. Sometimes my friends look at me and then just shake their heads - they've had the fate-discussion with me too many times to have the energy to bring it up again. I don't support the Big Bang-theory - the whole "something out of nothing" doesn't really work for me, nor do I support the "God created Heaven and Earth"-stories. If I'm bored I go for the viking-myths - that we all live in a big tree with a dragon gnawing on its roots.
That's how humans work - when something is too hard to understand they make up easier explanations. Does that make them stupid? No, not really. I went to high school with one of the smartest people I've ever known - intellectually - but the line between brilliant and insane was very very thin. Some days we really had our doubts.
Don't get me wrong here - I, too, look strangely at the religious people. I, too, question scientific results. I, too, make up easier explanations when my mind can't comprehend stuff. I laugh at narrow-minded people who can only see it their own way and I mock them. It's not very nice, but usually they don't understand that they're being mocked with anyway.
So how do you think a priest and a scientist would react if I had them stand next to each other and asked them "Do you think science can be compared to a book with a beginning, a middle and an end?". I think they'd both say yes. The priest would probably have his answer ready after the word "book" and then scientist would think "no" at first, but then hear "beginning, middle and end" and see an experiment - thus changing the answer to "yes". If I'd then ask them "Do you think religion can be compared to a book with a beginning, a middle and an end?" I'm fairly sure they'd both say "yes" straight away. After all - most religions these days are based on books and written stories. And still these two groups of people look strangly at each other, not really wanting to understand the other side.
Thursday, 21 January 2010
"You don't make friends with salad!"
I just finished reading Fast Food Nation by Erik Schlosser - a book I never wanted to read and planned to stay as far away from as possible. So why did I read it then? Well, a) it was a school assignment and yes, true - that's never really stopped me before - and b) I told myself I'd stop acting like a small child and just grow up. This means to do the assignments you're supposed to do. It took me thirteen days to finish the 387 pages so my reading isn't fucked up. At least that's reassuring. And you know what? It was enjoyable reading. Horrible, disgusting and absolutely intriguing reading. And yes, I'm in one of my vegetarian phases again. No surprise there really since they come and go at least once or twice a year and has done since the end of 1997. My New Year's resolution for 1998 was to become a vegetarian - or well, to just not eat pork or meat. I was thirteen.
Did you know that there's actually a name for that kind of vegetarianism? It's called ovo-demi-lacto-vegetarianism. Egg-fish-milk-vegetarian. (I just called myself "vegetarian" because it's so much shorter.) It's quite funny actually, because I still remember what triggered my decision. The Simpsons. I know, you can roll your eyes all you want, but there was a point to it. Lisa the Vegetarian - the fifth episode in season 7. Did you know that Paul and Linda McCartney guested that episode and that Paul's condition for starring was that Lisa remained a vegetarian for the rest of the series? I sure as hell didn't.
Anyway, my reason for becoming a "vegetarian" was that I couldn't eat meat and know that the animal I stuffed in my mouth suffered like hell to get there. Long transports all across Europe and stress and all that - it just didn't work for me. I'm fairly sure that Freud would say that this is the age when people start to care about their environment and want to change the world. Fits quite well, doesn't it? (I'm not a fan of Freud - just to clarify - he had to get laid more in my opinion.) I stayed vegetarian for a year - then my mother gave me an ultimatum, either I cook myself or I ate what she made. The first thing I ate in school was the arche-typical Swedish dish; potatoes, meatballs, brown sauce and lingonberries. I've never had a problem with those meatballs or the school-food in particular really. I always liked it. After that day I never was a fan of the meatballs again. They tasted horrible.
Okay, so I suppose I'm not really a vegetarian, but right now I'm staying away from beef and pork and I will until the text in Fast Food Nation starts to fade from my brain. I usually try to buy groceries which are organic (I'm still not convinced that's the right word) - you know, safely grown. I don't cook poultry - I only eat it if someone serves it to me - and I cook meat very seldom. And yes, fish does get exceedingly boring after a while. Maybe I'm just "aware". Or maybe I just care too much, but you know - read the damn book and then get back to me.
Did you know that there's actually a name for that kind of vegetarianism? It's called ovo-demi-lacto-vegetarianism. Egg-fish-milk-vegetarian. (I just called myself "vegetarian" because it's so much shorter.) It's quite funny actually, because I still remember what triggered my decision. The Simpsons. I know, you can roll your eyes all you want, but there was a point to it. Lisa the Vegetarian - the fifth episode in season 7. Did you know that Paul and Linda McCartney guested that episode and that Paul's condition for starring was that Lisa remained a vegetarian for the rest of the series? I sure as hell didn't.
Anyway, my reason for becoming a "vegetarian" was that I couldn't eat meat and know that the animal I stuffed in my mouth suffered like hell to get there. Long transports all across Europe and stress and all that - it just didn't work for me. I'm fairly sure that Freud would say that this is the age when people start to care about their environment and want to change the world. Fits quite well, doesn't it? (I'm not a fan of Freud - just to clarify - he had to get laid more in my opinion.) I stayed vegetarian for a year - then my mother gave me an ultimatum, either I cook myself or I ate what she made. The first thing I ate in school was the arche-typical Swedish dish; potatoes, meatballs, brown sauce and lingonberries. I've never had a problem with those meatballs or the school-food in particular really. I always liked it. After that day I never was a fan of the meatballs again. They tasted horrible.
Okay, so I suppose I'm not really a vegetarian, but right now I'm staying away from beef and pork and I will until the text in Fast Food Nation starts to fade from my brain. I usually try to buy groceries which are organic (I'm still not convinced that's the right word) - you know, safely grown. I don't cook poultry - I only eat it if someone serves it to me - and I cook meat very seldom. And yes, fish does get exceedingly boring after a while. Maybe I'm just "aware". Or maybe I just care too much, but you know - read the damn book and then get back to me.
Tuesday, 19 January 2010
don't close your eyes
I don't like nights. As a kid I was afraid of the dark and even though I'm not anymore, I'm still not a fan of the blackness. Spending the last two months being awake during the sleeping hours makes me weird. Isolated and strange. The worst part is that you never really realise it yourself. I totally get how people become agoraphobic.
So just do it. Just get out of the bed in the morning, put your clothes on and go outside. It's so totally worth it.
So just do it. Just get out of the bed in the morning, put your clothes on and go outside. It's so totally worth it.
Tuesday, 12 January 2010
When all else fails...
Spend all your time waiting
for that second chance
for a break that would make it okay
there's always some reason
to feel not good enough
and it's hard at the end of the day
I need some distraction
oh a beautiful release
memory seeps from my veins
let me be empty
oh and weightless and maybe
I'll find some peace tonight
In the arms of the angel
fly away from here
from this dark cold hotel room
and the endlessness that you fear
you are pulled from the wreckage
of your silent reverie
you're in the arms of the angel
may you find some comfort here
So tired of the straight line
and everywhere you turn
there's vultures and thieves at your back
the storm keeps on twisting
you keep on building the lies
that you make up for all that you lack
it don't make no difference
escaping one last time
it's easier to believe in this sweet madness oh
this glorious sadness that brings me to my knees
In the arms of the angel
fly away from herefrom this dark cold hotel room
and the endlessness that you fear
you are pulled from the wreckage
of your silent reverieyou're in the arms of the angel
may you find some comfort here
you're in the arms of the angel
may you find some comfort here
Sometimes I wonder what it would feel like. To disappear. To end it. Would it hurt? How long would it hurt? How would I do it? When I was younger I used to think about it quite a lot. Only thoughts though, never any actions what so ever. It doesn't stop me from wondering though...
Monday, 11 January 2010
Yah mon!
I just finished a paper about migration and you know what? I'm proud of it. It was fun to write and it was quite interesting to read and yes, of course I will translate it for you. I can't do it now though, would be a shame if they found it here and thought I just copied the whole thing, so I'm waiting a week or two before I translate it.
This feels good. Mentally. Or maybe I'm just too tired to actually feel bad about anything.
My dad turns 60 today. 60! It's just insane. My mom turned 60 two years ago and then I sent her (and my sister) on a one-week-trip to Mallorca. That won't work on my dad though. He'd enjoy it, but not really in the same way. So I've been thinking quite a lot on what to actually give him. You know, my dad is the kind of guy who wants a book or a sweater or you know, boring stuff. So to figure out what he actually wants but doesn't realise he want is quite hard. A few months ago it hit me though - my dad like sports. A lot. I think he gave that gene to my sister, because personally I don't really care. Except for championships - now there's a whole other story. Anyway, my dad loves football. And in my family we used to travel a lot when me and my sister were kids. So I figured - why not give him the opportunity to see a game in a European country of his choice? Quite good, huh? I know, I'm amazed myself. He's seen a high-risk-game in Italy once years ago and I know he really liked it so I can't wait to see his face. Although we haven't actually gotten the trip yet - it's a) too cold and b) his choice - not to mention c) since I'll send my sister with him I need the money first, haha.
Why do I smell liqorice in here?
This feels good. Mentally. Or maybe I'm just too tired to actually feel bad about anything.
My dad turns 60 today. 60! It's just insane. My mom turned 60 two years ago and then I sent her (and my sister) on a one-week-trip to Mallorca. That won't work on my dad though. He'd enjoy it, but not really in the same way. So I've been thinking quite a lot on what to actually give him. You know, my dad is the kind of guy who wants a book or a sweater or you know, boring stuff. So to figure out what he actually wants but doesn't realise he want is quite hard. A few months ago it hit me though - my dad like sports. A lot. I think he gave that gene to my sister, because personally I don't really care. Except for championships - now there's a whole other story. Anyway, my dad loves football. And in my family we used to travel a lot when me and my sister were kids. So I figured - why not give him the opportunity to see a game in a European country of his choice? Quite good, huh? I know, I'm amazed myself. He's seen a high-risk-game in Italy once years ago and I know he really liked it so I can't wait to see his face. Although we haven't actually gotten the trip yet - it's a) too cold and b) his choice - not to mention c) since I'll send my sister with him I need the money first, haha.
Why do I smell liqorice in here?
Sunday, 10 January 2010
feel the love
"I'm sorry, ladies, but if you don't want men staring at your bikinis
then it's really your responsibility to take them off."
Thursday, 7 January 2010
Life's a mess - it's starting to show.
We were young we were wrong
We were fine all along
My neighbour moves a lot of furniture. You see, I started taking notes every time I hear something from up there and about 85% says "furniture is being moved". 10% says "screaming" and the other 5 says "screaming, loud discussions, furniture is being moved?".
I feel like one of those really old ladies who peek through the curtains and spy on their neighbours. My dad's one of those. He always told me off for doing it, but he does it himself. Haha, never really thought about that until now to be honest.
I really dislike living here, being an hour away from my closest friends (and, at times - my family). It's good thing it's only about 2½ years until I've finished my studies (if I actually manage to find my brain and study) and can move abroad. Then I'll only be about 2 hours away. With a plane...
Tuesday, 5 January 2010
rêveiller
I dreamt that I got shot. Apparently I was against some governmental thing (sounds like me anyway) and me and some friends (can't remember who) were standing with our hands in the air and soldiers were pointing guns at us. You know, the big ones that soldiers have. The one who pointed his at me either was, or looked exactly like, Matt Damon. (Yes, I know.) I moved a little and he told me not to. Then I lowered my right hand and leaned against the ground - to sit down - and he shot me. I saw him pulling the trigger and I heard the bullet being fired and I felt it hit the left side of my chest, right where my heart is. I slumped down on the ground and he looked completely horrified. I never saw any blood, but everyone stared at me so I think it was visible. I didn't feel cold, only very warm and I could sort of feel my life slipping away. I was just going to sit down... I told him. He looked even worse after that. Why isn't anyone helping me? At that point someone ran to call an ambulance but I knew they'd be too late. I tried to speak again but it just came out in very low whispers. Why isn't anyone putting pressure on the wound? The guy who shot me moved towards me when I said that - like it awoke him from a trance - but I never saw him get close enough. I died before that.
Friday, 1 January 2010
Tie?
St James's Park April 2nd 2005 I have a New Year's resolution - I know it's really silly and that it's always the first thing you break, but I figured, what the heck? So my promise for this year is to "Be Happy". Not eat better, not study more, not care more about myself. Just plain happiness.
Ooo chocolate...
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